Good morning, good morning!

[Quietus]

Undisclosed space station.
Somewhere in the armpit of space.

3am.​

No such thing as last call until the server droid blows a gasket for the last time. At the back end of a hole-in-the-wall cantina the resident barlord huffs and harumphs as he drags the 27 year old doorstop to his final resting bed: the dumpster. He's laid to rest with a resounding clang and the angry buzz of station flies.

As observed by the young hoodlum currently garbage surfing through the adjacent dumpster, the droid looks on at the world with a sad, despondent gaze of durasteel and unlit eyebulbs.

Closing time for the bar that never closes.

You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.

3.30am.​

Street urchin migrates to other dumpster.

3.45am.​

Urchin painstakingly removes server droid from dumpster and drags it away. It's clearly a bit heavier than anticipated.

3.55am.​

Urchin returns to dumpster for half-eaten burger and fries plate and a portion of unserved noodle-something. Tosses the burger, absconds with noodles and fries into the night.

♪.Goooood mornin', good mornin'! We danced the whole night through.
.Good mornin', good mornin' to you!♫​

The station intercom plays perky music within the docks to welcome travelers. The docks are busy and full. The typical star surfer delight fills the air - the smells of the food vendor stands lining the walkways are enough to make even a filled belly growl. Urchin has taken up residence within a gap between two vendors sporting an abused-looking hovercart filled with odds and ends. Spacer's junk. Curios. The server droid sits in continued state of disrepair. Urchin is diligently working on fried circuitry. There's a handwritten sign on a sheet of durasteel hanging from the side of her cart -

repairs​

droids​

ships​

​

♪.Good mornin', good mornin'! It's great to stay up late.
.Good mornin', good mornin' to you!♫​

​

7.43am.​

​

Bzzt. Urchin flaps her hand at a sudden shock received from the droid's inner-most feelings. It's emotional battery hasn't run out. She sells a refurbished mouse-droid to a passerby with an enamored child. 5c.

7.59am.​

"Do you have any tailrings?"

Urchin looks up from her work, blinking.

"Tailrings. You know? Don't you junk dealers always have tailrings? Heard they're good for keeping mynocks outta the engine."

Itching at her ear, Urchin shakes her head.

"No? Know where I can get one?"

A shrug. Business as usual.

​

♪.When the band began to play the sun was shining bright,
now the milkman's on his way, it's too late to say goodnight!♫​

8.21am.​

"It's on the fritz again," a station guard holds out a stun baton. Urchin takes it without a word, grabs her tools and begins pulling it apart.

"Really just need to get a new one but the Big Guy will only cover one every galactic standard year. Don't he know how much use these things get?" The guard watches her pull out the powercell, scorched from shorting out. She tosses it into a scrap box then turns to sift through her droids. A small cleaning droid is sacrificed in the name of a quick fix. In enough time the stun baton is back to zapping.

"Dunno how you do it but you're a lifesaver," he drops 20c into her hand but the Urchin insists on more with a persuasive hand gesture. 50 it is.

​

♪.Soooo, Good mornin', good mornin'!
Sunbeams will soon smile through!♫​

​

9.13am.​

"Where did you get that?"

Urchin looks up from the server droid to find the barlord glowering over her with a look of baffled disbelief.

Shet.

"That's my server droid! You little thief- where do you think you're going?! Knew I should have reported you weeks ago! Get back here! Guards! GUARDS!"

​

♪.Good mornin', my darlin', to you!♫​

​

[member="Samael Rekali"]

 

[Arage Bao]

Alpha Centauri Prime.

My way to describe a station that had a single thing setting it aside from all the rest: its nondescriptness. Usually, when I track the lanes and settle down in one of the many trading stations hovering in space there is something that tries to convince me this setting is somehow different. It might be huge, neon lights glooming in the dark void of space, maybe the bold letters spelling out Arceneau Trading Company (and everything that came with that particular association), but usually it was all a let down… the promise was just a red herring and in the end you couldn’t really find anything different about this station that a dozen others didn’t try.

Alpha Centauri Prime didn’t try to lead you along… it didn’t promise wild rides into the night, flashy girls stripping down in front of you in one of the many bars in its entertainment sector, there was no hint of violence in the air or a moody vibe coming from the static voice of the announcer.

There was just… grey and white and black, its color scheme as drabby as it was uninspired, hard lines edged deep into space - all in all an industrial design made for mass production than anything bold or artful.

Just the place to stop by and… relax, without watching over my shoulder every two seconds.

At least that was the hope. But as I was sitting on the messy bed, trying to get this damn cargo boot on, I finally realized today was going to be one of those days. It starts with a tingly feeling running up and down your spine, add to it a soft pressure behind your eyes and a distinct desire to go out for a greasy hamburger at the local Windu’s… and you might get what I was experiencing right now.

Oh by Mandalore. I was going to pull a good Umbaran today.

“Kriff. At least get me a drink, before you feth me over sideways again.” I mumbled to myself, before fixing the straps to my cargo pants and heading for the door.

The Echoy Galaar… or Wayward Hawk in Basic, had been in my ownership for years now. I knew every nook and cranny, could name all the replaced bolts, probably dismantle and reassemble the engine blindfolded and do a bunch of other weird stuff that would designate just how well I knew my baby, it felt good walking down its corridors down the ramp and hearing that mechanic zzzzzt behind me as the ramp levered up again.

It felt… right.

Even if I already saw the problem from a big distance. Some kind of girl, being yelled at by a big, brawny kriffer with a rancor for a face. I scratched my beard and then sighed loudly - this was going to be a long day, but I wasn’t planning on stepping in just yet.

Instead I stopped a few meters from ‘em, leaned against the railing and waited.

[member="Fennec"]

 

[Quietus]

Evading the barlord came easy enough for squirrely little Urchin. A dodge here, a jump there, she snaked around his bulk and took off on her hovercart - which was to say she went about as fast as she might've on foot. Fast enough to stay out of the otherwise portly bar-man's reach ... but not quite fast enough for the Guards that came loping around the corners at the walkway end.

She scooted around a vendor selling Ribenes off his trolley, nearly toppling the man in the process, and made to take off down a side channel.

Seemed like she was going to get away too - until another Guard came leaping out from behind a small speeder and body-checked the half-pint right off the cartstand.

Urchin landed face-down on duracrete, smashing her nose and biting straight through her lower lip. Blood was gushing in two seconds flat. Urchin started screaming with her one arm flailing at the Guard who grabbed at it and pinned it to her back.

"Give me your other-" a pause as he found she did not, in fact, have another arm, "quit your screeching! Where are your parents?!"

[member="Samael Rekali"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6667px]What to do… what to do. Ya know, it ain’t ever easy to decide to get involved or not- which is a blatant lie I keep telling myself, of course… because I already picked my decision. The moment I saw that little girl being tackled, moment I saw she only had [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]one[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] fething arm, the moment that bulky schutta started giggling at her state? Well, let’s just say that there wasn’t any other way this situation could end, it was that damn knee, I tell ya. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]It just itched and itched, until I decided to get it over with.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Probably would be blacklisted from the station, but that’s the dealio most of the time - no good deed is left unpunished, like a wise man once told me. But that’s the entire thing with good deeds, you don’t do them because it gives ya something… you do ‘em because it’s fething [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]right[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] to do.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]I started moving, my eyes on the prize, that being the real threat. Wasn’t the barrel-chested giggler, instead they were the two security guards.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Y’all should leave that girl alone.” my voice sounded harsh. Weary. As if I hadn’t talked in a [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]loooong[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] while, and when was the last time I actually talked?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“She didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Which um. Well, I didn’t really know that, literally just got on the scene, but bluffing sometimes worked.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="Fennec"][/SIZE]

 

[Quietus]

"This ain't none of your business, civilian. Move along," a Guard stepped forward to stop [member="Samael Rekali"] in his tracks, "she ain't nothin' but a stowaway causing trouble."

Urchin sputtered with her face to the ground, blood smeared all over it and the floor.

"That rat stole my server droid! Right there on her ..." barlord had caught up by now, looking out and around the scene to spy her cart still bobbing down the row, "on her cart! She's been sneaking around for a week. Caught her twice out back of my bar surfing through the dumpsters and stealing backstock!"

"Where are your parents?" the Guard pinning her to the ground asked again, working a makeshift set of cuffs since, well, he only had one scrawny little arm to cuff in the first place.

Urchin replied with a grating screech, glaring cold, steely daggers out at anyone that dared look, including the stranger that had made his decision to interfere.

The sudden high-pitched whine of a charging cell-pack filled the air. The Guard looked down at his utility belt right before his stun baton exploded. Urchin slipped his grasp and stumbled off down the hall. Just as she neared her cart-

PEW PEW

Two stun bolts to the back laid her flat.

"Damn space rats..." muttered Guard #2.

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Boy.” and the tone on the older Rekali’s voice would underline the fact that he did not particularly care [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]how[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] old the guard in front of him was, at the end of the day Samael would consider himself the senior regardless of the amount of gray whiskers displayed through the helmet’s opaque visor.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“I wouldn’t suggesting waving that baton in my face.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]His attention was again taken by Guard #1 and the greasy Fatman.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“So, bustling around in the trash cans for stuff you throw away… is now a felony? You, lad, maybe if you would stop applying pressure to her back, she would actually have enough [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]air[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] to repl-”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Oh, there we go.[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] The distinct sensation of Force manipulation permeated through the air and what happened next basically eliminated any possibility for a peaceful resolution - guy’s baton exploded, which would be seen as sabotage; considering the she was the one who repaired it in the first place, so attempt at-[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Oh, bugger it all.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Tap. tap. Guard #2 turned around as Sam ticked him on the shoulder, que a fist steadily growing bigger and closer, until it hit him straight [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]in[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] and [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]through [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]the visor. A solid knee, also enhanced through the force, would take him in the groin and padding. The guard collapsed, and with that two guards were down; the first one disabled by [member="Fennec"] and the exploding baton. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]The Fatman was suddenly way less smug and excited.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Two seconds to breeze the scene, Fatboy. Leave her stuff.” Sam wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“I will be back with more backup, you sucker!” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]The huffing and puffing steadily lessened as he ran away from the scene. The old captain scratched his chin, slowly walking towards the stunned urchin.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Oh by Vahl. What did you get me into this time.”[/SIZE]

 

[Quietus]

Pan scene of curious on-lookers, scattered bodies, and one lone Urchin in a heap on the ground, face smeared with blood.

To her credit, the Urchin was moving already - a testament to her own thick hide or, perhaps, just a short-duration stun. By the time [member="Samael Rekali"] neared her she was pushing her scrawny self up with that one arm, blood drip-drip-dripping from her nose and chin. She breathed through her mouth, quick and rasp, grey eyes strained as one of the few physical indications that she felt any pain at all. Shrapnel from the exploded stunner peppered her back and arm - a piece of which she pulled from her forearm with her teeth and spat on the floor.

It landed at Sam's feet.

Que a scrambling, mildly-disoriented pre-teen.

She got to her feet and stumbled back, pulling a self-made shiv from her boot top and pointing it hand-over-edge at the man in a manner that indicated she had training in handling such a thing.

Drip drip, snnnrrrk. She rubbed her bloodied face along her shoulder and began backing away, eyes on the old man.

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6667px]There wasn’t amusement in his eyes - just the wary look of a man who had seen too much already. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]This girl was a representative of all the horrors he had experienced during the wars, even if she didn’t know that herself, the bloody visage, handicapped with only one arm, no parents to speak of, abused by the authorities and glib, hungry vultures like the fatman. It [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]reminded[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] him of everything he had run away from: was the right choice back then, but it stung nonetheless.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Ain’t interested in playing games, girl.” he stopped walking towards her, instead Sam stopped in his tracks and gave her some space.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“If you need medical attention, I can get ya some, otherwise you better pick up your things and then get outta here.” head motioned towards the lift with her stuff.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Samael was expecting the fatman to return soon - this time with backup and more firepower. That was the thing with bruised egos… they always want to get revenge for ‘em, that was what the world revolved around these days.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“And careful, might not be here next time shet like this happens.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]With that the old Mandalorian set out to leave… in the direction the fatman ran off. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Perhaps it was time to get better acquainted with the criminal element active on the station.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="Fennec"][/SIZE]

 

[Quietus]

Snnrk. Dripdrip. Urchin sheathed the shiv, glanced off past the old man and quickly turned to make her own hasty exit. Jumping on to the hover-cart backstand she kicked off for momentum and shuttled it off down the rows.

THE WILD URCHIN FLEES THE SCENE.

Her ship, if it could really be called her ship, was at the furthest, most tucked away corner of the station. Back in the civilian docks, back where the empty pockets park. Far enough removed from the scuffle to not draw attention - at least she wouldn't if it weren't for the blood trail she was leavin' behind. Steering her cart around the back the Urchin pulled a gauntlet out of the bottom of the basket and keyed in a command code to open the cargo ramp.

"Thought this might be yours," the voice sounded from behind her as she rounded the cart up the ramp. Urchin turned to find the same Guard from earlier, the one with the glitchy stun baton. He seemed nonchallant.

Urchin shoved her cart up the last of the ramp before turning to watch, prepubescent muscles tense and ready to dudge.

"Been here for a few weeks now. Meaning to talk to someone about that. Where's your parents?"

No answer from the girl.

"You're in pretty rough shape there..." the Guard took a few steps up the ramp, looking around at the mess before looking to her with a frown, "here all by yourself ain't ya?" A few more steps. Urchin's eyes grew wider and she took a step back.

"This ship has a pretty big docking fee that I've been sent to collect on. Squatters don't help the economy, kid."

She wiped at her face with her arm, smearing fresh blood along the sleeve of her oversized jacket and then reached into the pockets to fish for something. 315c managed to be found and she held it up to the Guard without a word.

He shook his head with a sigh, "That's a start but it's not gonna cut it. I'm gonna need you to come with me."

[member="Samael Rekali"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6667px]He circled back for two reasons and two reasons only. It was the old Samael, the one fighting in the wars, the one who had assassinated targets and slaughtered dozens of Sith in retaliation of Mandalore and Junction, that would have gone after Fatman… and left a little, relatively innocent girl to her own devices. That Sam would have cared more about erasing a mistake, instead of trying to care for someone.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]That… and she reminded him of Ember’s daughter, [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]Benna[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]. Something in her eyes. Maybe he was purposefully just deluding himself, but there was that same kind of [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]fire[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] - that will to live and push forward.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]It was for this reason that Samael was there, leaning against the doorpost and listening to the exchange between the guard and the girl. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Why am I here? [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]Because you don’t know any better.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“If I may interrupt?” his voice sounded less tired than he really felt. But by Vahl, this was exhausting, why did he always try to meddle in other people’s affairs?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="Fennec"][/SIZE]

 

[Quietus]

"Unless you happen to be the girl's father or guardian, then 'fraid not," the Guard replied as he slowly made his way up the ramp in a trudging sort of manner that indicated he likely wasn't happy about the job he had today, "c'mon kid, let's just do this the easy way. Not looking to hurt you, but the Boss needs his dues."

Urchin backed away again, grey eyes going steely as she began looking around. In a flurry of movement she ran back towards a pile of what appeared to be spare parts and junk. With a cacophony of sound the girl began piling things into a crate - this thing, that thing, anything - then turned and offered the box to him.

A sigh, a crackling sort of confused laugh, "What?"

She offered it again, giving it an insistent shake.

"That's a mighty fine box of junk you got there, but it's not gonna do it either. We're likely gonna have to commandeer the ship and you'll end up in a detention cell till you've served out your time. ...unless someone wants to speak up for you and pay your bail."

[member="Samael Rekali"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Sam blinked.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Oh… feth no. Oh, no, no no no no no. Don’t even think about it. Nope. You aren’t. You [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]just[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] got paid, there is no way in hell that you are going to spent it all on-[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]"How much?" the older Mandalorian asked, wearily. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]His hand automatically went to scratch his rough beard, some grey mixed with still black. Sam refused to look at the girl -- she reminded him too much of his late niece and that was the last thing he wanted to think about right now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Last thing in the Galaxy.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Why did he always get himself involved in shet like this? He could have easily just left the scene after helping her out the first time… there hadn’t been any reason for him to follow her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Ah, feth. No sense in complaining. Dice is thrown, what’s done is done.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="Fennec"][/SIZE]

 

[Quietus]

The Urchin's eyes narrowed as the man declined the box of stuff, seemingly upset that he thought it simply full of junk. She dropped it, letting the thing clatter loudly on the floor of the cargo hold, contents spilling everywhere. Her cheeks grew flushed.

"Couple hundred at least - give me your hand, kid," the Guard lowered himself to kneel beside her, taking the proffered skinny arm and clapping a set of cuffs on it. He grumbled something about her being too skinny for her own good, but at least she was behaving, "we'll have to see what this ship fetches for scrap. Been looking at it all week, I don't even think it can fly."

Getting back to his feet he turned to look at [member="Samael Rekali"], "If you're thinkin' of doing what I think you are then come with me. Just need to fill out some forms, officiate everything. Shouldn't take too long to get a quote on the ship."

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6667px]"I… yeah, yeah. Alright." part of him was still trying to convince him this was a bad idea, but that same part knew it was a futile battle. The moment he had stepped foot on this station, moment his knee started itching like crazy, [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]moment the fat guy ran up to the little girl and started making a fuss[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px], was the moment that it all came crashing down again. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]"Let’s go figure this thing out, I guess." [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Sam finally took a look at the girl. Definitely got some Rekali blood in her, that fierceness and underdog-feel could only be found with their breed of mutt.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Couple of hundred of credits. That’s a fething… nope, don’t think about it. It’s a good cause, you know that, you wouldn’t be here otherwise. Damn knee. Dang it all.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="Fennec"][/SIZE]

 

[Quietus]

The detention center was fairly scant of faces when they arrived which stood as testament to the amount of Guards the station employed or the priority placed on the Barlord's stolen droid. Either way the Guard set the girl down on a nearby bench, locking the other cuff to the armbar before circling around the back of a standing desk.

"AT-120 Freighter, callsign Molotov. Records show it was under the ownership of a person named Fennec. Merc, I think. Any idea what happened to this Fennec?" he glanced sideways at the Urchin who offered a one-armed shrug in reply. He gave a grunt, "thought not."

He set the status of the ship to "scrap" and sent in for a quote to his technician.

"She's been here for weeks," the Guard said, his voice lower for Rekali, "my boy met her out on the pram first. Said she repaired his hoverboard in five minutes. Feth, I'd been trying to fix that thing for days. Been breaking my stunner on purpose anytime it looked like she hadn't had a meal. Was hoping someone would come pick her up, no one ever did. Take her in myself if I could afford to but Guard duty don't exactly give me the option."

"Can I see your ID? I don't need it per say but I'd feel a whole lot better releasing her on bail if the background check came up clean. Otherwise she'd be better off in the cell."

[member="Samael Rekali"]

 

[Arage Bao]

Samael was studying the urchin when he realized the guard was asking for some identification for a background check. The Outer Rim did not really have any consolidated ID system, most of the worlds were backwaters, few of them really united in any meaningful sense of the word, but there was something he could present in this case. He started ruffling around in his pocket, before turning up a washed-out durasheet, it was yellowed at the corners and seemed fairly old, Sam offered it to the guard.

It was an old Bounty Hunter license, expired a few years ago, but it had a picture of him and a name.

Samael Rekali.

He doubted the guard was well-versed with the Mandalorian Clans, so he probably wouldn’t know that Clan Rekali was a fairly established name within the Mandalorians. But that was alright with him. The point of the card was to link his face to the name, so they could run some background checks.

Probably see if he didn’t have any outstanding warrants, wasn’t a homicidal maniac or anything like that.

Which he wasn’t. The system would show that Samael was a fairly regular come-and-goner, with a fairly reputable reputation as a guide -- basically showing tourists the ways, guiding them through dangerous territories and the sort.

"She seemed fairly possessive of some of that stuff on the ship." Sam mentioned, also trying not to loud.

"You think we can go get some of it, seeing as y’all are gonna scrap it all anyway? I can throw in maybe fifty or hundred extra for the privilege."

[member="Fennec"]

 

[Quietus]

The Guard looked up from his screen, fingers slowly tapping on the desk as he waiting on his quote. He gave a short glance to the girl who presently sat fiddling with her cuffs.

"I don't see why not. Don't have a running inventory of what's inside, you'll just have to be quick is all. Once this clears you'll have about fifteen minutes before they move to haul the ship out... -now cut that out, kid,"

Wide grey eyes looked up from her hunched over position as she attempted to pick the lock with something pinched in her teeth.

The Guard made a questioning gesture with his hands, "Three minutes. You can't wait three minutes?"

She shrugged.

He sighed and looked back to his screen, "Oh, here we go. Looks like the ship will cover most the bill. Balance is 850c ... wait," shuffling through his pockets he pulled out the credits she'd offered him earlier, "...500c....alright. Thanks for not making this more difficult than it had to be. Hopefully she doesn't turn out to be more trouble than she's worth-"

CLANK.

Urchin was now on her feet, single arm stretched up in victory of having freed herself.

A dejected grunt was all the Guard managed as he leveled a I-really-hope-she's-not-more-trouble-than-she's-worth look on Sam.

[member="Samael Rekali"]

 

[Arage Bao]

"De nada." at the end of the day Samael was too old to like needless complications. He probably could have kicked the guard in the face, grab the girl and just make a run for it, but what would have been the point? Guard was just doing his job, didn’t seem to be the malicious sort either. It was the folly of the youth to act fast and without much thinking.

"Can’t put a number on a child’s life, friend." he eyed the, now free, urchin and couldn’t help but scratch his scruffy beard a bit.

"Though I foresee a lot of headaches in my future regardless."

He was traveling to Rekali territory. Word had it his brother had established quite the domain for himself within and outside of Mandalorian Space, if nothing changed then the Mandos and Clan Rekali wouldn’t be against adopting another stray in their midst. Maybe a young couple wanting a kid, older family with a lot of love to offer, something that could make Fennec happy.

Sam chuckled at the guard’s look.

“Don’t worry. My brother’s girl was just like this when she was a kid, I am used to it. Need anything else? Otherwise we should probably head back to her ol’ ship, see if there is anything that she wants from it.”

[member="Fennec"]

 

[Quietus]

"Godspeed," the Guard replied, looking up at the sound of a crew heading in, he motioned to Sam with a nod of his head, "better take the back door."

Fennec was already there, standing in the doorway, moony eyes looking at [member="Samael Rekali"] with some strange expectation. Apparently between fidgeting and freeing herself she'd been paying some form of attention. When Sam moved to exit she was two steps ahead of him, zipping around the corner and out the door.

NImble steps of familiarity kept her ahead but never quite out of sight. She traversed back passages typically reserved for maintenance and guard crews, pausing at corners to listen and look before darting across open alleys. Fleetingly, she'd check back on her new caretaker, keen on the man's slower gait, before flitting off again.

Took nearly ten minutes to reach the ship and that gave them little time to scavenge. Fennec was up the ramp without a word, disappearing through the cargo hold and into the belly of the scrap beast. Would Sam venture further in after her he'd pick up on the distinct stench of cigarettes, alcohol, and the most acrid smell of death.

[member="Samael Rekali"]

 

[Arage Bao]

He would.

Mostly because that smell wasn’t unfamiliar to him. Death had been part of him since his birth. You couldn’t be a Mandalorian without knowing your fair share of it, Moridin’s War had only solidified knowledge with sharp understanding, he wasn’t sure yet what the smell’s origin was, but it did nothing to deter him. Samael moved slowly. His hand moving to brush some strands of hair away, before they could obscure his vision, trying to get a beat on Fennec.

Difficult. Girl was on her own home territory. But the further he descended into the beast, the louder the sounds were of her scrounging her and there - he’d let her do her thang, she knew better what was of true value here and what wasn’t.

Instead he tried to find the origin of the stench.

Sam knew what it was, but he needed to see it with his own eyes.

[member="Fennec"]